


Down on the farm

by LemonRain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:19:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2877062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonRain/pseuds/LemonRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy has to go into hiding and Clint has to protect her.<br/>He isn't happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Plot that I couldn't get out of my head. 
> 
> I'm starting to think that the first chapter is a little too long.
> 
> Not proofread, so I imagine it's full of grammatical errors and misspellings. 
> 
> I may go back to edit, may not. 
> 
> Characters are property of Marvel, I'm just borrowing them.

"What the HELL?" Clint Barton aka Hawkeye shouts. "How did I get stuck babysitting Lewis?" He runs a hand through his already messy hair. "Can't she go to Asgard with Thor and Foster?"

"She won't go." answers Steve Rogers aka Captain America. "She insists that they are on their honeymoon and she doesn't want to interrupt their, and I'm quoting here, 'sexy potential godlike baby making time'." he finishes with a chuckle.

"Why can't she stay here then?" Clint argues, "The tower is safe."

"We have a very credible threat against Miss Lewis." Steve answers, "We need to get her out of the city. We can't shut down everyday operations and close the tower so our best choice is to get her out to an unknown location. That brings in you and your farm."

"How did you even find out about it?" Clint grinds out, "I never told anyone about it except Coulson."

"Agent Barton, Clint, please." Steve tries to reason with Clint.

"Let me get this straight." Barton growls, "I have a place that is mine, not anyone else's, just mine, and your telling me that I have to take some spoiled, stupid, KID there to babysit? Some immature, worthless little lab assistant?"

"That's ENOUGH Agent Barton." Steve pulls his Captain America voice, "The two of you leave in 30 minutes. I've already told Miss Lewis to pack. The helicopter will meet you on the roof." his voice switches back to the friendlier version, "Give her a chance Barton, she isn't stupid or spoiled, she may be young, but she is a heck of a dame. She certainly isn't worthless."

"I'll keep her alive, _Captain_ ," Clint grinds out, then turns on his heel to go back to his apartment and pack his belongings. He slams the door open and almost hits the object of his ire. Darcy Lewis, wide eyed and pale, watches Agent Barton storm out of the office.

Steve sees Darcy standing in the outer office, clutching her bag. She looks pale and he wonders exactly how much she overheard. Giving her head a little shake, Darcy smiles and steps into the office with Steve.

"I don't think he is too happy about this." Darcy says with a grin.

"He'll get over it." Steve reassures her, "I trust him with my life, so I trust him with yours."

"I still don't understand why I have to leave." Darcy sighs, "I'm nobody. I don't come up with the ideas, I just file them. This doesn't make sense. Who would target me?"

"Darcy, don't." Steve scolds, "You are part of this team, you keep Jane and Tony happy, you make them take breaks for food and sleep, you keep them from blowing up the labs, you are more important than you think."

Darcy turns from Steve and decides to let it go. She doesn't want to hear anymore. She feels bad that Clint is stuck with her. She knows Clint avoids her, but she didn't think he really disliked her, until now. She feels pretty bad after hearing what he had to say, ok, shout, about her. She walks over to the couch, sets her bag down, and sits. She packed light, just a couple days worth of clothes, some books, her toiletries, and her iPod. She wants to be as self sufficient as possible. Grabbing a book, she settles in to wait.

***************************************************************

The helicopter ride is uncomfortable to say the least. Agent Barton refuses to make eye contact with Darcy and she winds up staring out the window at the darkness for the majority of the trip. She finally drifts off to sleep only to be woken up when the helicopter hits a patch of turbulence. She lets out a small shriek and clutches the armrest. She looks over at Barton who rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Get a grip Lewis," he laughs at her, "it's just turbulence."

"I have a grip," she replies cheekily, "I'm currently gripping the armrest."

Clint goes back to ignoring her as the voice of the pilot comes on to tell them that they will be landing in five minutes. Darcy tightens her harness, then grips the armrest again.

Once the helicopter is on the ground, Clint unclips his harness, grabs his bag, then jumps out, leaving Darcy to struggle with her own harness.

"Hurry up Lewis!" She hears him shout from outside, "We don't have all fucking night."

"Shit." she whispers, pulling on the clip until it finally releases. She grabs her bag and jumps down to the ground. She refuses to apologize and looks at Barton with her chin held high. As soon as she is clear, the helicopter takes off again, leaving her alone with him for the first time since this whole fiasco started.

"Don't expect me to carry your shit." he says.

"Did I ask you to?" she retorts angrily.

"Just so we're clear." he points a finger at her, "You are going to pull your own weight. My farm is just that, a farm. If I have to keep you there, you are going to work. There are chores to be done every morning and you are going help to do them."

"Whatever I need to do," she swats his finger, "but don't point at me like I'm a child. I'm a grown ass woman. Point at me like that again and I will break your fucking finger off."

"You could try." Clint turns and walks to a small barn nearby.

Snow is beginning to fall and it is very cold. Darcy shivers in her thin jacket, wishing she had a thicker coat. She follows him into the barn, carrying her bag. _Well, this is starting well. It may cure my crush on him once and for all._ She thinks sadly.

"We ride from here." he says, leading three horses from a stall. "Bring your bag over."

She carries her bag to where he waits. He grabs the bag from her and straps it to one of the horses, then straps his on as well. Darcy reaches up to stroke the horses nose. "Hello beautiful." she whispers to the horse. "I'm sorry you are stuck carrying my bag. I'll find you a carrot or apple soon." she promises. Clint finishes with the bags, then swings himself up on one of the other horses.

"Mount up," he commands, "you're wasting time. It's a long ride and I don't want my horses out in the cold any longer than they have to be." Reaches over he grabs the reins of the horse carrying the bags and heads out of the barn, leaving Darcy to get the saddle on her own.

It took a few tries, but Darcy will quite literally die before she asks for help. Luckily, she has ridden a horse in the past so she knows the ropes. She gets the saddle on her horse then swings herself up. She pats it's neck, then heads out of the now empty barn. Clint closes he barn doors, then, without a word, rides off into the night. He doesn't even look back to be sure Darcy is following. Darcy does follow, shivering and wishing for gloves, but vowing not to complain.

***********************************************************

Darcy loses track of time and feels like she is losing feeling in her hands and feet. The inky darkness of the night has given way to a soft grey, so she knows the sun must be coming up. Her shivering has lessened, but Darcy knows this isn't a good thing. Her body is growing accustomed to the cold because her body temperature is dropping. Despite her resolve not to complain, she isn't about to lose her fingers and toes to frostbite. Just as she is about to ask how much further, she sees a house and barn in the distance. She sees that Clint had turned his horses towards the house and she almost cries in relief. They have been on horseback for hours and she is frozen through. They reach the barn and Clint dismounts. He opens the barn door and without looking back at Darcy, leads the horses in. Darcy dismounts as well, but falls to her hands and knees immediately. Her entire body is screaming in pain, but she forces herself back to her feet, praying that Clint didn't see. She grabs the reins and leads the horse into the protection of the barn, grateful that her fingers still move. She spies an empty stall and heads that way. She feels the horses ears and notes that they are cool, but not cold, so she grabs a towel and brush. She struggles with the saddle, her fingers stiff and red. It takes much longer than she would have liked, but she finally gets the saddle off. It's heavy and lands on the barn floor with a thump. She wipes off the saddle, then uses all of her strength to lift it to the hook on the wall. She runs the towel over the horse until it is dry. The stall is clean and the hay is fresh, so Darcy grabs a bucket.

"Where can I get water?" She rasps, voice rough from the cold.

"Pump is outside." Clint answers without looking up from his horse.

"Thanks." Darcy grabs the bucket from his stall, then heads out of the barn. The wind is biting as the snow continues to fall. She puts down the bucket and starts pumping. She can hear the pipes groaning and laughs thinking that she knows how they feel. She grabs the buckets as water flows. After the buckets are filled, she turns back to the barn. Her numb fingers can barely grasp the handle of the buckets and one slips from her grasp. Water sloshes out of the bucket all over Darcy's jeans. "SHITFUCK." she gasps as the icy water penetrates her clothing. Standing still for a moment, Darcy curses her life, then grabs the half empty bucket and fills it again. She picks up the buckets and carefully carries them back inside the barn. She sees Clint checking out her horse so she stops at the other stalls first to water the other two horses. Sighing, she picks up the single bucket and walks over to her stall. As she pours the water for her horse, Clint says, "There is a horse blanket in the chest."

Darcy hangs the bucket, then opens the chest. Grabbing the blanket, she silently makes her way over to the horse. She shakes out the blanket, then covers the horse for the night. She gently rubs the horses nose and neck. "Thank you for carrying me tonight." she tells the horse, then presses her forehead to the horses head. Her bag lands at her feet and she jumps. Glaring at Barton, she stiffly bends over and picks up her bag. Barton has already left the barn so Darcy goes out the barn door. She stops to close the doors and can see he has already walked halfway to the house. Securing the doors to the barn, Darcy feels the emotion of the day catch up with her. Tears fall as she turns to the house. Taking a deep breath, she tries to regain control. She trudges heavily to the house. Walking up the steps, she half expects the door to be locked. She opens the door to find Clint stoking a fire in the fireplace. She closes the door behind her softly and cannot help but try and get closer to the warmth of the fire.

"Your room is upstairs, second door on the right. Your room and mine are connected through the bathroom." Clint says without looking at Darcy, "Don't touch anything."

"Maybe I should just sleep in the barn." she mumbles, turning to the stairs.

"Excuse me?"

Darcy is done. She is freezing, exhausted, and mad. "Maybe I should sleep in the fucking barn." she shouts. "You obviously don't want me here, I think the horses could at least tolerate me."

"Stop acting like a child." Clint rolls his eyes.

"Fuck you Barton." Darcy grabs her bag and walks back to the front door. "I didn't ask to be sent here. I didn't ask for you to babysit me. You have been nothing but horrible to me the entire time." Clint stands up and starts to speak, but Darcy cuts him off, "Just leave me alone." She whirls out the door, pain long forgotten. She races down the front steps and back to the barn. She opens the door and makes it inside, then slides the latch before Barton can stop her.

"Open the fucking door Lewis." Clint pounds on the door.

"I'll sleep out here tonight." Darcy yells through the door, "now quit pounding on the door, you're spooking the horses."

The banging stops. "Fine, freeze to death." Clint calls, "I'll be in the house, drinking coffee in front of the fire, like an adult, if you change your mind."

Darcy feels like an idiot. She is acting like a child, a spoiled child. Clint is right. She starts shivering as the adrenaline leaves her body. She unlatches the barn door and opens it. She steps back out into the cold, then closes the barn door. Turning back to the house, Clint's hand closes around her upper arm and pulls her roughly, then throws her over his shoulder like a bag of grain. She lets out a shriek hits him on the back.

"Put me down." Darcy hollers. Clint tightens his hold and ignores her. Darcy starts kicking and hitting him. "Put me down, Barton." she shrieks.

"Fine." he yells, finally losing his temper, "You want down? Fine." He dumps her on the frozen ground.

She lands hard on the frozen ground and pain shoots through her body. She gasps and rolls over, back arching involuntarily to get the pressure off her hip. "Shit." she gasps.

"Oh come on Lewis," Clint looks mildly uncomfortable, "don't be so dramatic." He holds out a hand to help her up.

Darcy ignores the outstretched hand and tries to ignore the pain in her hip. She struggles to her feet and is too tired to fight anymore. She lets Clint pull her to the house.

Once inside the house, Darcy slowly walks to the stairs. "I promise not to touch anything but the bed." she whispers.

"Don't you want some coffee?"

"No thank you. I'm exhausted. I just want to go to sleep."

"Ok." Clint says, "There's a list of chores so don't sleep too long."

"Ok." she responds softly as she makes her way upstairs,"I'm sorry Clint, sorry for everything.  Thank you for letting me stay here."

******************************************************************

Clint feels like a bit of an ass as he stares into the crackling fire. He has been a real jerk to Darcy and he knows it. Granted, she acted like a child when she threw her fit and ran to the barn, but he knows that he pushed and pushed her. He is surprised that it took her so long to lose her temper. She also rode for hours without one word of complaint, then took proper care of her horse. He really thought she would whine and beg him to do it, or just leave the horse without thinking about it, but no, she did an excellent job cooling down the horse, then got water for all three horses, not just the one she rode. He didn't even blanket her horse after checking it. She did that too without complaint.

Steve was right. She is amazing. And beautiful. He first noticed her in New Mexico. She went crazy eyed over that iPod. She is wild and gorgeous. 

God, he hopes he didn't really hurt her when he dropped her on the ground.

She had to be absolutely freezing. Her light jacket wasn't nearly enough and she had no gloves during the entire ride.

"Shit." he muttered, draining his coffee, then standing. He really needs to make sure she is ok. The house doesn't have central heat and he isn't sure how many blankets are in her room. He makes his way upstairs and gently knocks on her door. "Darcy?" he calls softly, but there is no answer. He pushes open the door to see Darcy curled up on top of the blankets, fully clothed and shivering violently. She is fast asleep, tears still wet on her cheeks. Laying a hand on her leg to wake her up, he feels how wet her jeans are and his temper flashes.

"Dammit Lewis," he shouts, startling her awake, "are you fucking stupid?"

Darcy's eyes land on Barton. "The FUCK Barton!" she groans, "what did I do wrong now?"

"Are you trying to die?" he rages at her, "Your jeans are fucking soaked and you can't even be bothered to change out of them before going to bed? Why am I even bothering trying to keep you alive?"

Darcy gets out of bed. Without a word, she yanks off her jacket, then toes off her shoes. She grabs a nightshirt out of her bag, then pulls her shirt over her head and unbuttons her jeans. She yanks her jeans down and kicks them off. She reaches behind her and undoes her bra, pulls the straps down her arms, then removes it. She hooks her fingers in her panties, then yanks them down too. Clint's mouth goes dry as she stands before him, apparently unconcerned with her nudity. She looks him dead in the eye, then grabs her nightshirt, pulling it over her head. She bends over to pick up her clothes, then marches into the bathroom. Clint stands beside her bed in shock, then groans in a combination of anger and arousal. She is insane.

*********************************************************

Darcy hangs up her clothing in the bathroom to dry. She is too mad to be embarrassed about undressing like that in front of Barton. She didn't mean to fall asleep in her wet jeans, she has been awake for almost two days, the last 12 hours having been spent with a man who openly despises her. Hoping he has the decency to leave her bedroom, she walks back in only to find him standing exactly where he was when she stormed out. Ignoring him, she grabs her bag and removes her toiletries. She goes back into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She finds a spot to leave her things, then goes back into the bedroom. Clint finally left and Darcy is thankful.

Thankful and confused. She has had a crush on him since New Mexico. She thought that maybe, he might like her too. She has seen him watching her, she has flirted a little, he flirted back. She had no idea how much he hates her. She doesn't know why or what she did, she just knows what she heard outside of the office.

She grabs her bag off the floor and is about to put the rest of her things in the closet, but Barton's warning to not touch anything sticks in Darcy's brain. Shrugging, she decides that she will just live out of her bag. She sets the bag on the floor, grabs her book and iPod then settles back in bed. Darcy notices the extra blankets on the bed and sends a silent thank you to her reluctant host.

She sets the alarm on her iPod to go off in 3 hours, then slides under the warm blankets. She reads for a few minutes, but the fatigue finally wins and her book slips from her fingers and lands on the floor with a thump.

**********************************************************

Clint is in his room across the hall from Darcy when he hears the thump. On his feet in a flash, he races to her room and throws open the door, not sure what he is going to find. He sees Darcy laying on the bed, thankfully, mostly under the covers his time, and a book on the floor next to the bed. He picks up her book and sets it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers up to Darcy's neck. He turns and leaves her room, but not before he hears Darcy sigh, "Thanks Clint." He doesn't reply.

***********************************************************

The alarm wakes Darcy at 9am. Her body hurts, but she knows that laying in bed will do more harm than good. She goes into the bathroom to wash up and finds that her jeans are still wet, but her bra, panties, and shirt are dry. She collects the dry clothing and goes back into her room. She changes clothes and pulls her hair into a ponytail. She then makes her bed, puts her nightshirt on her pillow, and straightens the room up. She grabs her box of tea and heads downstairs. She guesses that Barton must either be upstairs sleeping or outside dong chores. She finds a kettle and puts water on for tea. She's hungry, but doesn't want to just help herself so she settles for her Earl Grey. While her tea steeps, she finds a list of chores.

To do:

Feed and water animals  
Muck stalls  
Collect eggs  
Clean chicken coop  
Ride fence and gates -repair as necessary  
Chop wood - keep kindling box full at all times

Darcy sips her tea, thinking about where to start. Deciding that the horses should be checked first, she grabs a few small apples from the bowl. She slips them into her jacket pocket and heads outside. The snow has stopped, but cold still takes her breath away momentarily. She resolutely heads to the barn. Opening the barn door, she hears the horses nicker hello. She walks over to the horse that carried her and scratches its nose in greeting.

"Good morning you gorgeous thing." Darcy coos, "I hope you are resting well." She takes the apple from her pocket and gives it to the horse. Darcy repeats her actions with the other two horses from last night. She sees three other horses in the nearby stalls. She takes the time to greet and pet them all. The last horse is heavily pregnant and Darcy promises to bring her extra apples later.

Darcy sees a pair of work gloves on a nearby work bench and grabs them. She picks up the buckets and heads outside to get water. It takes at least four trips, but Darcy gets all the horses watered. She then grabs a rake to muck out all the stalls. Deciding that now is the perfect time for music, she places her earbuds firmly in her ears and cranks up her 80's mix. She spots some large rubber boots and looks down at her pink converse. Shrugging, she pulls on the boots which are much too large, but will protect her beloved shoes. Starting with the first stall, she leads the horse out, then she mucks out the shavings and droppings, spreads fresh shavings, then gets fresh hay and puts plenty in each stall, all while dancing and singing off key. After giving the pregnant mare extra hay and an extra scratch behind the ears, she goes over to the workbench and puts the rake away. Looking around, she sees a clipboard with sheets of paper listing names and feed ratios for the horses. She decides to start at the beginning. She carefully measures the feed and grain ratios for each horse, double checking so Barton will have one less thing to yell at her about. She feeds each horse, then takes off the boots, placing them back where she found them. She is exhausted from using muscle groups unused to physical labor. Her back is screaming, and her hip aches, but she is satisfied that the horses are taken care of.

The chicken coop is between the house and the barn so Darcy heads there next.

*****************************************************************

Clint wakes up when he hears the front door shut. Groaning, he rolls out of bed. Walking to the window, he can see Darcy walking toward the barn. Is she going to run? He gets dressed and heads to the barn to stop her. He hears the singing just outside the barn door. He climbs up the side of the barn and swings into the open window into the hayloft. Crouching behind some of the bales, he watches as Darcy sings and dances her way across the barn. Watches as she cares for his horses, taking care to speak and sing to them. She looks absolutely ridiculous in his mucking boots. Even more ridiculous dancing in them. He shakes his head, but cannot stop watching her. He should go down and help, they are his horses, but he wants to see if she can do this. He watches as she carefully measures out the feed and finishes up the barn chores. He watches Darcy stretch and place a hand on the small of her back, then rub her hip. He watches her leave the barn, heading to the chicken coop.

She picks up the basket and unlatches the gate to the chicken coop. He sees that she carefully latches the door behind her. She makes her way into the nesting area. A few minutes later, she comes out with the basket full of eggs and feathers in her hair. She lays the basket down, then carefully closes the door. He watches as she pulls out the roosting baskets starts to clean them, carefully gathering the droppings and putting them in the barrel marked chicken compost. She lines them with fresh straw and pushes them back into the coop.

Clint watches Darcy pick up the egg basket and start walking back to his house. She sings out a goodbye to "all good chickens" and thanks them for their eggs. He shakes his head and silently follows her back to the house. She has her ear buds in and is still singing, then she dances up the steps into his kitchen. He goes around to the back door and walks inside shrugging out of his jacket. He sees that she is smiling at the eggs, looking quite proud of herself. Darcy looks up from the basket she has set on the table and sees him. Her smile fades and she leaves the eggs where they are. She turns away and goes back outside.

Clint swears softly under his breath. She is doing a lot better than he thought she would. Why can't he tell her that? It's not like she knows what he said about her? Just because he doesn't want her here doesn't mean he has to make her miserable does it?

He needs to think and decides that he can think better while checking his fences. He heads to the barn to saddle his favorite horse. He needs to get away for a while.

*******************************************************

Damn Clint Barton. Just seeing his face and her good mood evaporates. She left so she wouldn't have to hear how she probably collected the eggs wrong or something. She goes outside, spots the woodpile and wants to check something else off the list. Unlike taking care of horses or chickens, Darcy has no idea how to chop firewood, but how hard can it be?

Pretty damn hard. She carries the log over to the chopping block and sets it up. She swings the axe and completely misses. Many, many times she misses. When she does connect with the wood, it is ineffective. She has been trying to chop the wood for two hours and her hands are killing her. The pile for the kindling box only has about seven pieces. She hears the barn door close and debated giving up, but just can't. She gets another piece of wood and sets it up. She grabs the axe and thinks that gloves would have been a good idea. She swings the axe and misses per usual. She hears a snicker behind her and decides that she is done. She drops the axe and without looking behind her, stalks into the house. He can chop his own damn wood she thinks angrily. As she kicks the door shut, she hears Barton swear loudly. She decides to ignore him and takes is her jacket. She notices a smear of blood on the fabric and looks at her hands. They are a mess, torn skin and blood everywhere. Shit. She goes into the kitchen and carefully starts to wash them, but it hurts like a son of a bitch.

"DAMMIT LEWIS" she hears Agent Barton bellow, then the entire house shakes from the force of him slamming the door.

Darcy groans. _How did she fuck up his world now?_ she wonders.

**********************************************************

Checking fences helped clear Clint's head. He is going to try and give Darcy the benefit of the doubt. She seems to be trying and took really good care of his horses and chickens. She must have seen his chore list because she did half of it. He didn't think to write an actual list for her, he thought he could just give her some easy jobs to keep her busy and out of his hair. She surprised him by being a hard worker as well as an effective one.

His fences look good and only required a few repairs. It was nice riding in the open air. The snow covering the land like a blanket, everything looks so clean and pure. It helps ease the memories of the horrors he has witnessed and been a part of. The screams he carries with him are lessened and he can feel his heart slowly mending. He will never be fully healed, never free. He will always be scarred and broken. Maybe that's why he has such a hard time with Darcy. She is always so open, so happy, singing and dancing like nothing matters. She is so young, vibrant and pretty. He wants.....

No, he won't complete that thought. He and Darcy may become friends, but nothing more. He can't let that happen.

A couple of hours later, he has cooled his horse and is walking back to the house to try and talk to Darcy like an adult. He can hear something out back so he heads that way. He stops when he sees Darcy swing the axe and completely miss the log. He can't help but laugh and knows she hears him when her back straightens. She puts the axe down and without looking back, stomps not the house. He goes to pick up the axe and sees blood smears. "SON OF A BITCH" he shouts, as he hears the door shut behind her. He throws the axe down and bolts up the steps to his house. He opens the door and yells her name. She must have been trying to chop the wood for the entire time he was gone. She wasn't wearing gloves, he is sure of it. Her hands must be shredded.

He can hear the water in the kitchen and storms in to find her standing over the sink holding her hands under running water. "You are the stupidest person I have ever met." he grabs at her hands, but she flinches away, pale and shaking.

"Stop calling me stupid." she says quietly. "I'm not stupid." She turns away and tries to walk around him.

"Then why do you do such stupid, childish things?" he asks "Why the FUCK did you try to split the wood? Why didn't you put on FUCKING GLOVES?"

"I'm just trying to help, Barton." she replies, "I know you don't want me here, don't like me, but this wasn't my choice. I wanted to stay at the tower, but Steve wouldn't let me. Something about a danger to the rest of the people if I stay. I can't be responsible for anyone getting hurt on my behalf."

"Yeah, you're a huge fucking help." he retorts, grabbing her arm and forcing her to sit at the table. "You cut, what five pieces of useable kindling?" He stalks over to the sink and grabs a first aid kit.

"Seven." she sniffs.

"Oh, seven." is the heavily sarcastic reply. "I apologize for my error."

He grabs her hand and inspects the damage, "Shit." his heart clenches, "Look at this mess."

Darcy tries to pull her hand away, but he holds tight.

"Dammit Lewis," he scolds, "stop being such a baby and let me bandage your hands."

"Stop calling me names." Darcy says angrily.

"Stop giving me reason." he responds.

He rubs some ointment on her hands and the pain immediately eases. Darcy moans and Clint can feel her relaxing. He chuckles and grabs some nonstick pads and gauze. He wraps her hands and stands up to put the supplies away. "The ointment is a creation by Bruce Banner. he makes it for me. I'm not 'super' and get hurt a lot on missions. The ointment speeds healing and eases pain as you may have noticed."

Darcy looks up at him, "what do you mean, not super?" she asks, "How can you think that?"

"I'm not. I don't have a suit of metal, no serum, not a God." Clint shrugs, "I'm just plain old Clint Barton, nothing special here."

"You're wrong."Darcy says softly, "you are plenty special. A complete, hateful ass, but special nonetheless."

Darcy gets up from the table and walks away from him before he can say anything else. Clint stands still, unsure that he heard her correctly. How in the world does she manage to be so nice when he gives her no reason?

*************************************************************

Darcy is embarrassed to say the least. She actually tried to make Clint Barton feel better after all of his insults. Maybe she is as stupid as he thinks she is. She heads to her room to get a book. She is going to sit in front of the fire and read. She worked hard this morning whether Barton noticed or not. She grabs for her book, but only succeeds in knocking it to the floor.

"Shit." She bends over and tries again, but the bandages are making it very difficult. She finally manages to pick up the book and goes back downstairs. She settles in front of the fire and starts to read, only to quickly discover another problem. She can't seem to turn the page and hold the book at the same time.

Frustrated, Darcy throws her book across the room.

"Fucking useless." she mumbles.

"What's that?" Clint calls from the kitchen.

"Nothing." she calls back.

"Ready for lunch?"

"Um, I guess so."

Clint carries a tray with sandwiches over to Darcy and sits on the couch next to her. He hands her a sandwich takes one for himself.

"I'm sorry you have to do this for me." Darcy says softly.

"For having to make sandwiches?"

"For everything." Darcy replies, "For having to bandage my hands, for having to fix lunch, for having to chop the firewood, for being stuck babysitting me, for.. everything." She playfully pushes her shoulder against him.

Clint stands back up abruptly, "I'm going down to the barn. I'm a little worried about Ginger foaling soon."

He bolts out the door, leaving his sandwich on he table.

Darcy sighs. She isn't sure what she did wrong this time, but she wants to find out. She gets up and goes to the kitchen. She gets a plastic bag and a soda from the fridge. She wraps his sandwich in a paper towel and puts it in the bag with the soda, then adds a small bag of chips. It's not easy, but she does it. She puts on her jacket and loops the bag over her arm. She walks to the barn looking for Clint.

She sees him by Gingers stall, a concerned look on his face.

"Is she ok?" Darcy calls.

"She's foaling." Clint replies, "Go back to the house."

"I brought your lunch." she answers, "I'm staying."

"Dammit Darcy." he sighs, "I don't need this now."

"Look Barton," Darcy replies, "I can help. Eat your food, I'll keep Ginger company until you're done."

"Fine," Clint agrees, "but you do exactly what I say."

Darcy smiles.

**************************************************************

Darcy's smile is breathtaking. Clint tries not to notice. He can't afford to notice.

He finishes his sandwich while Darcy goes in Gingers stall. She is speaking softly to the mare and petting her gently with her bandaged hand. She has a way with horses, he can see that. Ginger is much calmer with Darcy. Maybe Ginger was feeding on Clint's anxiety and Darcy's general happiness is much more pleasant. Clint decides to get the horses ready for the night while he is already there. The horses are all freshly watered and fed when he hears Darcy.

"Clint?" she softly calls, "I think it's time."

Clint washes his hands and grabs a box of supplies. Taking a deep breath, he walks into Gingers stall. He prays that the birth will be straightforward and simple, but is going to be prepared for anything.

"I'm going to bind her tail, then we need to get out of the stall." he tells Darcy.

Darcy nods and continues to speak softly to the mare.

He wraps the tail quickly and then nods at Darcy. They slip out of the stall to give the horse some privacy. Darcy sits down on the floor by the stall. She looks tired. He sits down next to her and she immediately lays her head on his shoulder. He wants to put his arm around her, but doesn't.

They sit together quietly for a while, occasionally getting up to check on the mare. About ninety minutes into their vigil, Clint becomes concerned.

"Her water broke, but she isn't progressing."

"Bad presentation?" she asks.

"I hope not." Clint answers. "I'm going to check on her."

"Be careful," Darcy says.

Clint doesn't respond. He checks the mare and is dismayed to find the foal is presenting only one hoof first. "Shit."

"Oh no." Darcy breathes. "What do you want me to do?"

"Slip the harness over her." he instructs. "She will need enough give to lay down if she wants, but not enough to walk around the stall. Then keep talking to her. She likes you, it will help keep her calm."

Darcy does as he says, fumbling with the harness momentarily, but getting it done. Ginger lays down and Darcy lays down with her, talking softly. Clint grabs the box and pulls out a pair of long gloves and lubricant. He puts the gloves on and covers them with the lubricant. "I have to help the foal out, this will not be very comfortable for her." He eases his gloved hand into the horse, around the tiny hoof and can feel the head. He has to go all the way up to his upper arm and Ginger is fighting it. He hears Darcy speaking low to her.

"I know it hurts baby, but he's helping you. You know Clint? He is the guy that takes care of you. He has those amazing arms and now he is going to use them to help your baby. He is a really really good guy. He's so strong, and while this may hurt, it's all for the best. He is going to do everything he can to deliver your baby safely. I can't wait to see what your baby looks like. Will the baby look like you? A beautiful chestnut? Will it look like its daddy?"

The horse flinches as Clint pushes the foals nose back and locates the second hoof. He pulls both hooves with the contraction. He listens to Darcy talk to the horse with half an ear, trying to concentrate on the job at hand. "Oh Ginger, I know it sucks right now, it must hurt like hell. Clint's arms are huge. I can only imagine what it must feel like, having him inside like that."

Clint falters at the thought of any part of him being inside Darcy.

"You are doing so well Ginger. It's almost over. Making the baby is so much more fun isn't it? Well, it is for humans anyway, usually. With the right person, it's amazing. With the wrong person, it's pretty awful. Is it the same for horses? Do you care who you mate with?"

Pulling again, the foal is coming along, but Clint is having difficulty concentrating.

Ginger stands up and Darcy stands with her, still speaking.

"I've seen horses mate. It looks violent, but it must feel pretty good. I mean, otherwise there wouldn't be very many horses. As painful as birth seems to be, the sex has to be worth it? Of course, humans don't have sex just to have children, we can prevent pregnancy with pills and injections. Some people use condoms, but I can't use them. I'm allergic to something they are made out of. Gives me a hell of a rash. Skin on skin for me."

Clint almost stops breathing as she continues.

"I mean, it's not like I will just have sex with anyone. I have to trust them and they need to trust me. There are a lot of diseases out there and I sure don't want any of those. If I can't trust them, why would I fuck them? I prefer the shot. I get a shot every three months and don't have to bother with taking a pill every day."

Clint is pretty sure all the blood has left his brain. He needs to get this done and get the hell away from Darcy. Flashes of Darcy's skin keep popping into his mind. Thoughts of his hands on that skin. His lips on that skin. His cock buried inside her. Darcy coming undone.

He shakes his head and focuses on the task at hand. The foal doesn't seem to be progressing anymore. "Darcy," he calls reluctantly, "I'm gonna need your help."

Darcy kisses the mares nose, then walks to Clint. "What can I do?"

"I need you to pull one leg, while I pull the other. There are gloves on the bench."

Darcy holds up her bandages hands, "No gloves for me." she grins, then reaches over to grasp the tiny hoof with both hands.

He feels another contraction and starts to pull. "Now Darcy, pull hard." He looks over at her, sees her concentration and sees her pulling. He can feel the foal start to give and finally, the baby slides out. Darcy falls with a laughing shriek, the weight of the foal pulling Clint down next to her. He looks at Darcy, covered with the mares blood and fluids, laughing, and she has never looked more beautiful. Clint stands and takes off Gingers harness ready to let the mare take over. The horse turns to her new baby and lays down next to it. The foal shakes it's head, tears the sack, then lays back down. Clint, also covered from the birth, looks at the foal, eyes soft.

"Ginger! Your baby is here." Darcy softly exclaims, "I'm so proud of you. You did beautifully." She stands up and walks over to Clint. "Clint, that was amazing, you are amazing." Her eyes are shinning as she kisses him on the cheek.

Clint stiffens, "Get out of the barn, Lewis."

"What?" Darcy looks confused.

"Get out of the fucking barn, Lewis." Clint repeats, "I let you stay on the condition that you do as I say, now GO."

Darcy opens her mouth as if to argue, but seems to think better of it. The light fades from her eyes.

"Ok." Darcy says sadly, "Mind if I take a shower?"

"Go ahead, I'll get one when I get back." he replies.

"Ok Barton," she whispers, "I'll be quick."

**********************************************************

_Shit, shit, shit._

_I can't do anything right_.

Darcy walks dejectedly back towards the house. The sun is setting and she is ready to call it a night, but stops at the chicken coop first to make sure everything is ok. The chickens are all safe so Darcy sings them a quick lullaby. Then goes back to the house, unaware that Clint is watching her.

She walks upstairs and goes through her bedroom into the bathroom. She unwraps the now filthy bandages from her hands and is amazed at the rate of healing. The skin is pink and new, the blisters are gone. She will have to remember to thank Doctor Banner. Turning on the shower, Darcy pulls her jeans from their drying rack, but they are still damp. Darcy finds a towel and then goes back into her room and strips out of her clothes. She leaves the filthy clothes in a pile on the floor, the jeans draped over a small chair. She is out of clean pants and will have to figure out how to wash them.

The heat of the shower is heavenly and Darcy groans in relief. As much as she wants to take a long shower, she doesn't want to use all the hot water so she takes the fastest shower possible, then gets out, gasping in the cold air. She grabs her towel and quickly dries off. Wrapping the damp towel around her shivering body, she goes back into her room to dress.

Her dirty clothes are gone, along with her jeans but her bra is there. Her bedroom door is still closed, so the only explanation is Agent Barton. Darcy decides to go ahead and dress for bed. She doesn't have much choice. The nightshirt on her bed is gone too, so Darcy grabs her bag and finds her tank top and sleep shorts. Not warm, not modest, but better than a wet towel right?

She puts on her pajamas and decides that she really needs some warmth. She wants fire and tea. She walks into the bathroom to hang her towel to dry and is met with a glorious sight. Clint Barton, shirtless, wearing only his boxer briefs, is washing up at the sink. Darcy's eyes widen in shock.

"OhGod." Darcy blushes, "I'm so sorry."

She turns to leave, but Clint grabs her arm. "Wait, please." he says softly, "Let me check your hands." He pulls her closer to him. He picks up her hand and turns it over so he can look at her palm. He runs a large callused finger over the pink skin, humming in satisfaction, "It looks good. The other?"

She raises the other hand, trembling slightly. He takes it and gives it the same inspection. "Nicely healed." he gently kisses her palm and Darcy gasps, heat pooling, Clint looks up quickly and sees that Darcy is panting, her chest is heaving beneath her thin tank top.

Oh, Darcy wants to kiss him, smooth away the wrinkles on his brow, make him smile. She wants to see what he looks like without the briefs. Feel his callused hands on her skin. Feel him sink into her, feel him come apart over her, under her, inside her.

Clint turns from her, dismissing her abruptly.

Darcy feels the rejection like a bucket of cold water.

***********************************************************

She is singing to the damn chickens, he laughs to himself. He locks the barn and follows her to the house. He hears the shower come on, and hears Darcy's groan. His groin tightens as he imagines her groaning for other reasons. Trying to distract himself, he decides to do laundry. The machine is in the room next to Darcy's so he grabs her clothes too, leaving the bra. He doesn't know much about women's clothes, but after ruining a bunch of Natasha's bras, he quickly learned to never wash them in a machine or put them in a dryer. He sets the pink and black bra on the chair holding her still damp jeans. He picks up her jeans and grabs her nightshirt as well. He throws them all in the machine, then strips down to his underwear, throwing them all in. He starts the machine, thankful he has a tankless water heater so Darcy won't run out of hot water. He goes into his room to wait for her to finish her shower. The water shuts off and he waits until he hears the door close behind her before he enters the bathroom. He starts at the sink, wiping some of the worst mess from his face.

The door opens, causing him to jump, but it's just Darcy. In a tank top and the tiniest shorts imaginable. She apologizes and starts to leave, but God, wants her to stay. He grabs her by the arm and pulls her close. Asking to see her hands, he is pleased that she is healing. Without thinking, he drops a kiss to her palm. Hearing her gasp, he looks up into her eyes. He sees the desire in her eyes, the open invitation, and is tempted. Oh so tempted. He feels his body reacting and has to turn away before she notices.

He can feel her walking away. Hears the bathroom door close.

Turning on the shower, he resolves to stay as far away from Darcy as possible.

*************************************************************

Darcy's tea is brewed and blanket is warming by the fire. She didn't bring her slippers so she has on a pair of socks. She has to go outside for a few minutes and clear her head. She grabs her tea and wraps herself in the blanket, turning on her iPod, she puts the earbuds in and goes outside. She walks down the steps, off the porch and out to a swing she spied earlier. The sky is clear and dark and the stars are bright. There is no porch light, or any outdoor lighting to dim the stars. Darcy sips her tea and gazes at the constellations. Orion is her favorite and is usually the first one she sees.

She can't find it initially, so she keeps swinging and looking up until she finds it. She laughs to herself when she realizes that Orion is also known as the hunter and he uses a bow and arrow. She laughs again at the irony, laughs hard, then feels the tears start. Feeling sorry for herself, she has a really good exhaustive cry. Clint isn't attracted to her and nothing she can do is going to change that. It's time to grow up and get over him.

The air is getting colder and Darcy notices that the stars seem to be going out, one by one. The clouds are moving n fast. The icy wind is picking up and snow begins to fall again. Darcy figures that now is as good a time as any to go back into the warm house so she picks up her cup and tightens her blanket. Walking back to the house, the snow is really coming down thick. The wind starts howling and Darcy's wet hair is whipped into her face. The temperature is dropping fast and she swears her hair is already freezing. The wind shreiks as it blasts against her, pushing her back from the house. SHIT. She staggers up the icy steps to the safety of the porch and turns the doorknob. The door doesn't open. She tries it again with no change. Clint must've locked up for the night. She feels dread form in the pit of her stomach. She should have told him she was going outside. Maybe he didn't lock the front door? She staggers around to the front of the house and tries that door. No luck. Locked tight. The downstairs lights are all off so he must've gone to bed. Surely he would check on her before he goes to sleep? Darcy makes her way to the back porch again, just as the howling wind hits the house with such force, the house shakes. Going to the barn isn't an option, too much wind and the wet snow is blinding. Is this a blizzard?

Darcy pounds on the door. "Clint?" she calls, then screams, "CLINT? BARTON?" She chokes back a sob, "PLEASE?" She continues to pound on the door, but it's no use. The wind is too loud. He obviously can't hear her. she looks around and decides that she better huddle up next to the door. She pulls the blanket tight around her shivering body and waits. Waits for Clint, waits for death.

****************************************************

Clint finishes his shower, then throws the clothes from the washer into the dryer. He calls through Darcy's closed bedroom door, "I'll leave you clothes on the chair when they are dry. You should probably change into something warmer. There is a blizzard warning tonight. It's gong to get cold." There is no response from her room so he figures she is probably asleep. It's been a long couple of days.

Clint goes downstairs and adds wood to the fire, then locks the doors. He is pretty tired himself so he heads upstairs. He turns on some music and gets on his treadmill. He hears the blizzard hit, shaking the house and something is banging outside. He needs to check that tomorrow morning. He runs for about 45 minutes, then hears the dryer buzz. He turns off the music and goes into the laundry room. Taking the clothes out, he folds them, separating his clothes from hers. He takes his into his room and puts them away. Picking up Darcy's clothes, he considers just leaving them, but decides that as good as she looks in her shorts and tank top, she really needs to wear more. He knocks on her door, "Darcy?" He calls softly, "I'm bringing your clothes in. There is a blizzard outside and you are going to need more to wear." No sound comes from her room. "Darcy?" He knocks a little louder, then opens the door, "Darcy." he walks over to her bed to shake her awake so she can change clothes. He switches on the bedside lamp only to discover that the bed is empty. Hasn't been slept in.

"Darcy?" he calls, "are you in the bathroom?" Standing and laying the clothes on the bed, he knocks on the bathroom door. "Darcy? Are you there?" He opens the door to an empty bathroom. "Darcy?" he shouts, "Answer me. Where are you?" He races to the other rooms upstairs, calling her name. Nothing. He pounds down the stairs turning on all the lights as he goes. "DARCY, ANSWER ME DAMMIT." Downstairs is as empty as upstairs. Where the fuck is she? Dread fills Clint. Is she outside? He turns on the outdoor lights and opens the front door. Snow blows in as Clint looks out, eyes scanning the landscape. He doesn't see anything, but there is already a fresh foot of snow. "DARCY." Clint bellows, "ARE YOU OUT HERE?" There is no response that he can hear over the wind. He closes the door and runs to get his coat and gloves. Maybe she went to the barn? He gets his coat and gloves on in record time, then wrenches open the backdoor. He puts an arm up to protect his face from the howling wind and is tripped by something just outside the door. He lands on his hands and is momentarily stunned, then he hears the object he tripped over groan. He scrambles to his feet and frantically brushes the snow off what he sees now is a blanket. "Oh God." he whispers, "please no. Darcy, Baby?" He uncovers her face. She is pale as a ghost and her lips are blue.

He gathers her into his arms and rushes her inside. Slamming the door behind him, he races to the fireplace. He deposits her on the nearest couch and rips the cold blanket from her. She isn't shivering, just laying on the couch, eyes closed. He pulls the blankets from the back of the couch and covers her. Returning to the fire, he throws on as much wood as it will hold, then stokes it until it is roaring. He turns back to Darcy and sees that her hair is frozen. She must've gone outside just after her shower, after he turned away from her. It had to be close to an hour ago.

_What have I done?_

He takes off his coat and gloves. Burrowing under the blanket, he grabs Darcy's hands. They are ice cold and white. He starts to rub them and she doesn't flinch. "Please be ok Darcy," he pleads, "please?" Her whole body is pale and waxy. "Darcy," he whispers, "please wake up." He starts to run his hands up her arms and legs, trying to increase her circulation. He hears a soft moan. Encouraged, he starts rubbing more briskly. "Come back to me Baby, open those beautiful blue eyes so I can see them again."

Darcy starts shivering and Clint almost cries in relief. She opens her eyes, but isn't focusing on anything. "Darcy? Can you hear me?" She doesn't respond. She does pull away, and starts tugging on her tank top. "Too hot." she moans, "it's too hot."

Clint is terrified. He knows that she is hypothermic and hallucinating. He has to get her warm. He grabs her hands to start rubbing them again.

She pulls her hands away and grabs her tank top. She yanks it over her head then attacks her shorts. Pulling them off, she sighs in relief, relaxing. The shivering starts even more violently. She grabs Clint's hand and looks into his eyes. "Hi there." she says, "I'm  Darcy. You look like someone I know." she smiles, "He is amazing. He hates me though. I really really like him, but I keep messing up. He hates me."

"No." Clint whispers, "He doesn't hate you. I know for a fact that he doesn't hate you."

"How would you know?" Darcy asks, "I would know. I tried and tried to help him, but I'm just...what did he say? He said, I'm a spoiled, stupid, immature, worthless lab assistant. And you know what?" she continues not waiting for a reply, "he's right. I'm not sure why they sent me here. I'm just torturing Clint. I guess someone is trying to kill me, but they should just let them. I'm nobody. I'm not worth protecting. What if someone gets hurt protecting me?" Darcy starts to cry.

"Baby, don't think that, please." Clint doesn't think he can feel any worse, "You are the only thing worth protecting in this world. You bring so much happiness to everyone. You are beautiful, funny, and just amazing."

"Stop." Darcy weeps, "I'm so tired, please stop."

Clint continues rubbing her hands, they are not any warmer

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything you want." he promises.

"Find Clint," she pleads, "Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I love him and I'm sorry."

Clint's heart stutters, "No you don't," he whispers, "you can't love him. He's not good for you. He's too old, too broken."

"You don't get to tell me that." Darcy retorts, "No one gets to tell me that. Not even Clint can tell me who to love." her voice trails off and the shivering resumes.

Clint sees that she has gone to sleep. "No Baby, you can't sleep now." She is still cold as ice. The fire and blankets are not enough. Clint drops her hand. He puts more blankets in front of the fire, then goes to the kitchen. He microwaves some water and puts a tea bag in the hot water with plenty of milk and sugar. He races back to the living room, puts the cup on the table, grabs the warm blankets and drops them on Darcy. He then sighs and knows what he has to do. He strips down to his boxer briefs and slides under the blankets with her. She is frozen through. He needs to warm her core, so he rolls her over to face him, then wraps her in his arms. She is shaking violently and starts crying again. He decides to sing. Hoping it will sooth her since she likes music so much. He sings country, classic rock, pop, anything he can think of. It seems to work. Darcy has quit crying and feels warmer, at least, he hopes so.

****************************************************

 


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy is dreaming, and it's beautiful. 

She is naked, laying on top of a mostly naked, sleeping, Clint Barton. Her face is nuzzled up to his neck and his scent is filling her senses. Her breasts are pressed against his warm, muscular chest. His arms are wrapped around her, a callused hand cupping her bottom. A distinctive bulge is pressing into her thigh. Darcy sees that her dream is at his farm, in his living room, on his couch. Not in his bed. Weird.

Warm. She feels warm. Warm and safe. She isn't sure why she expects to feel cold. She is under the blankets and in front of the fireplace with Clint. She really doesn't want to move and wake up. Sighing, she closes her eyes and tries to stay asleep. She wants to stay in this dream forever. Darcy knows that Clint would rather gouge his own eyes out than lay with her, and she is overcome with sadness. Darcy decides to savor this dream as long as she can, even knowing the pain of his rejection. 

The arms wrapped around her pull her closer and she feels the change in his breathing. 

"Darcy?" she hears a voice rasp, "Are you awake?" 

"No, now be quiet." she whispers, "I'm dreaming and I don't want to wake up." 

"Darcy." the voice chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest, "You aren't dreaming."

"Yes, I am. I have to be. There is no way this would ever happen and I'm staying here as long as I possibly can." she whispers, "Now please shut up." 

"I'll let you go back to sleep if you tell me what you remember about last night." 

The voice is negotiating with her? Ok.

"I took a shower, then accidentally went into the bathroom while Clint was in there. He was standing at the sink into n his underwear and looked so good. Anyway, he wanted to look at my hands, to see if they are healing. He kissed one of them, and I thought he wanted to kiss me, but I was wrong." Darcy's voice drops to a whisper, "He didn't want me. He turned away from me like I smelled bad or something. Maybe I'm not pretty enough. I don't know. I mean, his partner is Natasha and she is perfect. Anyway, I wanted to clear my head and couldn't do it in the same house with him. I made some tea, then went outside to look at the stars. I needed to see Orion because it's my favorite. It was so cold, but I was warm under the blanket. I think a blizzard came in because the wind got really strong all of a sudden." Darcy starts to shiver, despite the warmth of the body under hers. "It started to snow so I tried to go back inside." she pauses, then her voice starts to shake, "The door was locked. I went to the front door, but it was locked too. Maybe Clint thought I was inside. Maybe he is just sick of me. I banged on the door. I kept banging on the door, then I yelled his name. I screamed his name, but it didn't work. I thought I was going to die. Oh God, I died didn't I? I must have died because I don't think I'm dreaming anymore so this has to be Heaven." 

"You're not dead Darcy." 

"Then how is this possible?" she raises her head and looks at Clint, "what's going on? I don't remember anything after banging on the door."

Clint makes no move to get up, he just continues to hold Darcy. "I'm so sorry," his voice cracks slightly, "I should have made sure you were inside before I locked the doors. I thought you were sleeping. I never thought you would go outside. Please believe me. You must've been outside in the storm for almost an hour." He tightens his arms around her and starts to softly run his hand up and down her back. "I'm so sorry Darcy."

Darcy's skin erupts with goosebumps at the sensation and she drops her head back down to his neck. She absentmindedly starts to trace an unknown pattern on his chest with her fingertips.

"Darcy, please know that I didn't meant or you to get hurt, God I am so sorry. I couldn't find you and realized that you were probably outside. I was so scared that you were going to die. When I finally found you, you were so damn cold and then started hallucinating. I had to get you warm."

"If we had sex and I don't remember it, I am going to be so pissed." Darcy mutters, not quite under her breath.

Clint's gentle stroking on her back falters as the bulge pressing into Darcy becomes more pronounced. Darcy squirms slightly and Clint tightens his hold. 

"We didn't have sex." he chuckles.

"Of course not." Darcy whispers dejectedly. "Let me up please." She slips out from his arms and grabs one of the blankets to cover herself. 

Darcy won't meet his eyes. "Thank you for not letting me freeze to death. I'm sorry I'm so much trouble. I'll stay out of your way as much as I can." She turns from him and races up the stairs, determined that he is not going to see her cry again. She makes it to her room and closes the door, locking it behind her. She has to pull herself together, but is going to allow herself one last really good cry. Not bothering to get dressed, Darcy slips under the covers of her bed just as the tears start. She turns on her iPod and cranks up the music, hoping to hide her sobbing. 

*******************************

Waking up with an armful of naked Darcy Lewis is his best wet dream. Better still, her breathing is normal and her body temperature seems to be as well. He didn't mean to fall sleep, he wanted to stay awake all night to monitor her. He wanted to stay awake and savor the feeling of holding her. He knows his body's reaction to her is obvious, how can she think he doesn't want her? Hearing her compare herself to Natasha makes his heart ache. Sure, Tash is beautiful. There is no question about that, but she is also hard and cynical. Darcy is beautiful. Beautiful, soft, and optimistic. She is a genuinely happy person. 

Hearing her babble about dreaming made him smile. In another lifetime, he might have a chance at happiness with her. It's so tempting to throw his convictions out the window and bury himself in her. It would be so easy. 

He can't. It would make him the worst kind of villain. 

A happy, sexually satisfied villain, but a villain nonetheless.

Becoming involved with Darcy would put a huge target on her back. His cynicism would dim her bright world. He is scarred, broken and at least 15 years her elder. 

When she brings up sex, he has to laugh because she just sounds so put out that she might have forgotten. She would never forget sex with him. He can guarantee that.

Dammit, he has got to stop thinking about sex. 

Darcy getting up leaves him cold. Physically and mentally. 

He may have finally won, may have finally driven her away. So why does he feel like he lost?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¥¥Sorry for the delay. Stuff happened.¥¥

Darcy gazes out her window at the blizzard, thinking about her life. As much as she wants to be with Clint, it's obviously not going to happen. Letting go of her crush is going to be painful, but she has no choice. Clint has been stomping on her heart since they got here and it's time to protect what's left. Time to build her walls.

She gets out of bed to take a shower. Hot showers always help clear her head.

***********************

Clint is in the barn, tending his horses, his mind on Darcy. Even the new foal doesn't distract his thoughts from her. If anything, it makes her more prominent. His mind wanders back to Darcy telling Ginger all about her sex life. He chuckles at the memory. Did she even realize that he could hear everything she was saying? He could have easily gone up in flames just listening to her talk. So many of his waking moments have been consumed with the thought of kissing Darcy, spending time with her, clothed and unclothed. He wants to talk with her, kiss her, bury himself in her.

He is terrified of her. Of what she could mean to him.

Thinking back to last night, he wonders at her words. She said that she loves him? How can she love him? He has nothing to offer her. He can only take her happiness. He is already taking her optimism, he can see it. She thinks he may have intentionally locked her outside in a blizzard. That thought should have never even crossed her mind.

Maybe it's because she knows he is a killer. He murdered so many. Strangers, coworkers, even friends. Tasha tells him that it's not his fault, Loki was in control, but Clint just doesnt believe her. He doesn't believe the therapists or his friends. He puts on a face for them. Tells them what they need to hear. He wishes he could believe them, but even if he did, he will never forgive himself. He doesn't deserve that.

She obviously heard him when he went off on Steve about bringing her here. He didn't mean what he said about her, he just knew he couldn't keep his distance from her here. She is getting under his skin and working her way into his heart.

Dammit.

*************************

She feels much better after her shower. She puts on makeup for the first time in days. Her cat-eye liner and bold lip are part of her armor. She slips into her jeans, tank top, and long sleeve shirt, then goes downstairs. She is absolutely determined that Barton will not hurt her again. She will be friendly, she will help when she can, but she will not let her guard down. She can't.

She grabs her iPod and heads downstairs. Clint is nowhere to be found so she goes into the kitchen to grab a snack. The note on the table catches her eye.

_Darcy-_

_Went to the barn to tend the stock._  
 _Stay inside and stay WARM!! Blizzard is still going. (obviously)_  
 _There is plenty of wood for the fire._

_Help yourself to anything in the kitchen._  
 _Should be done by 2._

_-C_

Glancing at the clock, Darcy sees that it's only a few minutes after noon so she scopes out the remarkably well stocked kitchen. Clint will be frozen when he gets back do she decides to make some enchilada soup. She also starts some bread for later that night. If she isn't going to help with the chores, she can at least make sure he gets warm food. She connects her iPod to the speaker she finds in the living room and cranks her music. Throwing more wood in the fireplace, Darcy gets the fire going. She gathers the dishes she finds there and takes them to the kitchen. She notices that one is a full cup of her tea that she didn't make.

Clint must have made it last night. For her.

She really wishes she could remember more of what happened. It's all a blur after finding herself locked out. Waking up naked with Clint was the stuff of dreams, but sadly, only dreams.

 _Stop it Darcy_ she mentally scolds herself.

She gets the soup started and as it simmers, she cleans the kitchen, then moves onto the rest of the downstairs. She sweeps around the fireplace and dusts the shelves. A busy Darcy is a happy Darcy. She notices that there are no photographs anywhere. Nothing showing Clint as the owner of the house, nothing of Clint and friends or family, nothing. Her heart constricts.

Glancing at the clock, Darcy sees that it's only 1:30pm so she heads upstairs to clean the bathroom. She glances at Clint's room, debating straightening it up for him. She decides to leave it, remembering his warning to not touch anything.

Finishing just before 2:00pm, she goes back downstairs to stir the soup and start fresh coffee. Clint will be frozen through. She may be trying to get over him, but that doesn't mean she won't help him.

***********************************

The horses are taken care of, the chickens are safe. Clint should go back to the house, but he can't. He can't see her right now. He needs to work off some energy first. He hangs the punching bag, wraps his hands, and gets to work. Starting with jabs, Clint circles the bag, focusing on speed, not power. He works up to alternating left right punches, then body shots. Sweat is pouring from his body as he moves to kicks. His muscles are burning from the repeated side and roundhouse kicks, but he continues, determined to work off his growing obsession with Darcy. He moves back from kicks to punches, throwing himself into the workout. He punches harder and harder with less and less control, trying to drive her out of his thoughts, until he feels the pain shoot from his right shoulder to his neck and down his arm. "Shit!" he exclaims as he staggers back from the bag. Clenching his fist, he shakes his arm out only to groan from the intense pain. Looking at the clock, he sees that it's almost 4pm.

Two hours later than he wrote on the note.

 _I better get back to house._ Grabbing a towel, he mops off most of the sweat,

Wincing, he struggles to get back into his coat, then decides to forgo his scarf. The wind and snow are blasting outside and Clint shivers violently. The remaining sweat feels like it's freezing on his body. Clint longs for the warmth of the house and a hot shower. He locks the barn up tight and grabs the clothesline he strung from the house to the barn. He holds tight to the line until he reaches the porch. Climbing the steps, he reaches the back door and grasps the handle only to have the door wrenched from his grasp. He is pulled inside by a furious Darcy and the door is slammed shut.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?" she yells at him just before she throws her arms around him in a bone crushing hug. "I was so scared." she whispers into his neck.

***********************************

At 2:30, Darcy is nervous, at 3:30, Darcy is furious, at 4:00, Darcy is terrified. She wasn't allowed to bring her phone or laptop when she was sent here and searched he house high and low but didn't find a phone anywhere. She keeps the soup hot, hoping Clint will show up soon.

Staring out the kitchen window, she finally sees a familiar shape walking up the steps. Running to the door, she doesn't give him time to open it himself, instead, she pulls the door open and yanks him inside. She flings the door shut and is yelling before she thinks about it, then she launches herself at him. _God, he smells good._

Remembering herself, she pulls away immediately. "I'm sorry," Darcy looks down at her hands. "I made soup, sit down and I'll get you some." She grabs a bowl and fills it, then adds avacado and sour cream. She places it on the table with some chips and looks at Clint who is standing still wearing his coat.

"What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing." Clint replies tersely. Using his left hand only, he starts to undo his coat, wincing slightly.

Darcy's eyes narrow, "Clint, what's going on?"

"Nothing." is his reply.

"Dammit Barton," Darcy fumes, eyes flashing, "quit fucking lying to me." She walks over to him and looks him in the eyes. "We are stuck here together. I know you don't like me very much, but let me help you. What's wrong?"

He lets out a breath, then admits, "I got hurt working out. My right shoulder is killing me. I think I pulled a muscle."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Men. I swear, men are all the same." She starts unbuttoning his coat. "Let me help you." She carefully pulls the coat from him, trying not to jostle his shoulder.

"Go sit on the couch in front of the fire, I'll bring your soup and coffee." she commands. To her absolute shock, he obeys.

She grabs his soup and a cup of coffee, then follows him to the living room. She sees him sitting on the couch, rubbing his shoulder. She sets the food in front of him and hands him the coffee. He inhales the aroma appreciatively, then sips.

"Thank you Darcy." He smiles.

Her heart sparks, but she tamps it down. "Welcome." she replies, then she goes back into the kitchen. She grabs a baggie and fills it with ice, then wraps it in a dish towel. Returning to the living room, she takes the ice pack over to Clint and places it on his injured shoulder.

"Leave this here for 10 minutes." Darcy tells him.

"Thanks." he replies, "Darcy, this soup is amazing." He wolfs down another bite.

"Thanks Barton, I'm glad you like it." Darcy turns and heads back into the kitchen. She saw that he was near the bottom of his bowl so she gets another and fixes it up like the other. She trades the empty bowl for the full one. "Do you want something for the pain?" she asks.

"Nah, I'll just have to rest it for a while." he replies.

Darcy nods, then takes the empty bowl to the kitchen to wash. She turns the heat off under the soup and sets the pot on the counter to cool. Retrieving the bowl containing the bread dough, she works it and shapes it into a loaf, then sets it on the counter. She turns on the oven, the grabs the first aid kit. Locating the massage oil, she grabs it and another dish towel, then walks back to Clint who is sitting stiffly on the couch.

She puts the towel and massage oil on the table in front of him, then looks Clint in the eye. "You are going to trust me and not bitch. Understand?"

"Understood." he responds, straight faced.

"Ok," she smiles, "let's get your shirt off."

Clint pales, but says nothing. He puts the icepack on the table, then tries to unbutton his shirt one handed.

Darcy takes pity on him and walk over to help. Clint stands and she swiftly unbuttons his shirt and slides it from his shoulders, leaving him clad in his undershirt and jeans. She reaches for the hem of his shirt, her fingers ghosting over his abs. He shivers slightly, but lets her continue. he raises his left arm as Darcy pulls the shirt over his head then down his right shoulder, trying to keep from further injuring him. 

She gently pushes him back down on the couch, then grabs the oil and towel. She climbs behind him and perches on the back of the couch. She removes her own shirt, leaving the tank top. She pours some of the sweet scented oil in her hand, then rubs her hands together to warm the oil. When she is satisfied the oil is warm enough, she gently places her hands on his broad shoulders. She softly runs her hands over him, the now warm oil scenting the air. She slowly starts using her thumbs to work the tight muscles and can feel Clunt shudder beneath her hands. 

"Oh God Darcy," he moans, "that feels amazing." 

Darcy keeps working on him, gently working the muscles on his shoulders. She tries to focus on what she is doing, not who she is doing it to, but feels the heat pooling. Feeling his smooth skin under her hands is incredibly erotic and Darcy is gone.

************************

Clint is in Heaven and Clint is in Hell. Darcy's small hands are magic as she works on his shoulders. She is amazing. She fed him and now she is giving him the most incredible massage. When she took his shirt off, he wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless. When he felt her fingers touch his abdomen, the sensation was overwhelming. He was grateful to sit down before Darcy could see his body's reaction to her. He moans in pleasure as Darcy continues. He can feel the muscles in his right shoulder loosening as she works. Her hands keep moving over his shoulders and back and Clint can barely keep his head up. He is unbelievably relaxed. He hasn't felt this good in a long time. After Loki, he cut himself off from most comforts, including unnecessary touch. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve this. 

Clint stiffens immediately and Darcy's hands still. "What's wrong?" She softly asks him. 

He doesn't answer. 

Darcy's hands start working on him again and his head falls forward. 

Darcy leans in closer and whispers, "Clint?" He feels her warm breath in his ear and he is lost. He reaches back, grabs Darcy's hand, and tugs her onto his lap. Darcy lets out a startled shriek. He looks at Darcy for a moment, then slants his lips across hers. Darcy melts in his arms and kisses him back enthusiastically. She licks against his lips. Until he opens his mouth and accepts her tongue. He moans into her mouth and deepens the kiss. 

Suddenly, Darcy stops kissing him and pulls away. Standing up, she turns her back on him and walks a few feet away, chest heaving. Clint is confused and stands up. He walks over to her and places a hand on her shoulder. "Darcy?"

She whirls around and Clint has no time to duck. 

**SMACK**

Darcy slaps him across his face. 

"What the Hell Darcy?" Clint puts a hand to his face and steps away. 

"Don't you dare Clint Barton!" Darcy seethes, "Don't you dare kiss me after everything you have said since we've been here. You have been a complete ass to me the entire time I have been here and now you decide to kiss me? What the hell?" 

Clint steps towards her, but she backs away. "No! You stay away from me." Tears fall from her eyes as she runs to the stairs. "You can't fuck with my feelings like this." She races up the stairs and he hears her door slam. 

Dammit.


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy is furious and incredibly turned on. How dare Clint Barton kiss her? He doesn't want her. He has made it abundantly clear that he views her as a silly child, so why on earth did he kiss her? It was an amazing kiss. Darcy felt it all the way to her toes. She still feels it. It took a lot of strength to walk away from him and not to strip them both naked and make him shout her name. Her resolve to get over her crush on him flies out the window anytime she is near him. Even now, as angry as she is, she still wants to throw him down and kiss him stupid.

Maybe a cold shower is in order.

*******************************

Clint is furious and incredibly turned on. Darcy slapped him? What the hell? She is supposed to like him. She said so. He knows she enjoyed the kiss. She responded to him. He wanted nothing more than to rip their clothes off and make her scream his name. He should be grateful that she stopped him. He tries to be glad that she left before it could go further. She doesn't need him. She deserves so much better. His resolve to not become involved with her flies out the window anytime she is near. He wants her so much.

He is going to wash his dishes, then take a shower.

********************************

Darcy is shaking from the cold and still horny as hell. She towels off then wraps the towel around her body. She grabs her lotion, then goes into her bedroom. The cold, dry air is murder on her skin. She towel dries her hair and puts some leave in conditioner then combs it through. Still wrapped in her towel, Darcy lifts one shapely leg and starts applying her lotion. She smooths it over one bare leg, then the other. She then starts applying the lotion to her arms and shoulders. She loves how her skin feels with fresh lotion applied. She drops her towel and stands naked in her room. She starts with her breasts wishing it were Clint's hands putting the lotion on her. She closes here eyes imagining she feels his large, callused hands cupping her breasts. A soft moan escapes her lips as she increases pressure. Her nipples harden as she continues to knead her breasts. One hand slowly drops to her abdomen and she spreads more lotion there and down her hips. Her breathing increases as sits on the bed, then lays back and closes her eyes, dropping her hand further down. Parting her folds, she uses a finger to circle her clit. "Oh, yes." she whispers, "Ahhh." She increases pressure, then dips a finger inside, finding slick, hot, moisture. "Clint" she moans, "Oh God, Clint. Please." She moves her fingers faster and faster until she arches her back and cries out his name again. "Clint!" Her orgasm races through her body and she shakes with her release.

Slowly, her breathing returns to normal and she opens her eyes. Remembering where she is, her eyes fly to the bathroom door and she is relieved to find it closed. She can hear the shower and knows Clint is there, in the next room, while she was in here masturbating.

She prays he didn't hear her.

Exhausted from the emotions of the day and a great orgasm, Darcy rolls over and drops off to sleep.

*********************************

There are very few dishes so he washes them quickly, then goes upstairs to shower. He hears the shower running and knows Darcy is using it. He waits until it stops, then gives her a moment before he goes into the bathroom. He is already half hard at the though of Darcy naked in the shower and the feeling of her hands on his skin will torture him for a good long time.

Seeing that her door is open, he walks over to close it, but stops at the vision before him. Darcy, clad only in a towel, is rubbing lotion on her gorgeous legs. He should close the door, but can't tear his eyes away. She is so beautiful. She moves from her legs to her arms and shoulders. Clint presses his palm to his hardening erection, trying to relieve some of the ache.

He should shut the door now, he knows he should. He is the worst kind of pervert. He is over ten years older than she is. He should shut the door.

Darcy drops the towel and his mouth goes dry.

He watches as she begins to rub her gorgeous breasts, then he hears her moan.

He couldn't look away if Loki attacked right now.

She continues playing with her breasts, then he watches her hand move down. _Oh, shit, is she really going to? Yes she is_. He watches as she lays back on the bed and brings herself to completion, calling his name.

Clint is hard as a rock and wants nothing more than to bury himself in her, lose himself in her softness. Make her look in his eyes as he fucks her. He wants to feel her surrounding him as she comes apart.

Shame floods him as he realizes what he just did. He just invaded her privacy in the worst way. He silently closes the door before Darcy opens her eyes and sees him. He turns on the shower, strips, and gets in before the water is even close to warm, hoping it will deflate his erection. Hoping in vain. He can't get the sight of her out of his mind. He rests one forearm on the shower wall under the shower head and leans his forehead against it as water courses down his body. His other hand reaches down for his cock. He slides his hand up his length and groans. He pictures Darcy's small soft hand on him, stroking. Pictures her soft full lips engulfing him. Pictures her laid out on the bed, her hair spread over the pillow, head thrown back, screaming his name as she comes. He is yanking himself furiously, speeding towards release, panting. He comes with a loud groan, his release arcing onto the shower wall. "Shit, Darce." he gasps, tugging on his length a few more times. His legs are weak, but he finishes his shower. He pulls the shower curtain aside and grabs his towel. He dries himself off quickly, then wraps the towel around his waist. He gathers his clothing and goes back into his room to dress. Pulling on some well worn jeans and a henley, he gathers his clothes and towel, then goes back into the bathroom. Knocking softly on the door to Darcy's room, he calls her name. When she doesn't answer, he knocks again, then opens the door slightly. "Darcy?" he peeks into the room only to find her asleep on the bed, clearly naked, only covered by a thin blanket. He grabs extra blankets and drops them over her sleeping form, then drops a kiss on her forehead.

He's falling for her and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

He's not sure he wants to stop it anymore.

**************************************************

Looking outside the kitchen window, Darcy sees the moon. The blizzard is over and the landscape is a sea of glittering white. Darcy finds it very peaceful and absolutely beautiful. She feels a pull and wants to be outside. She wants to go for a walk, be out in nature. Darcy is a city girl at heart, but can appreciate the beauty of the countryside. She hears Clint coming down the stairs and makes a decision. She is going for a walk.

Brushing past Clint, she heads for the stairs, "I'm going for a walk. Don't lock me out this time, ok?" she laughs.

Clint's head whips around, "Are you crazy? It's freezing out there."

"Jury's out." Darcy shrugs. "The sky is clear and I'm going outside."

"Dammit Darcy," Clint begins, but she immediately cuts him off.

"THAT'S IT!! My name is not Dammit Darcy, it's Darcy." she says angrily, waking over to him. Pushing a finger into his chest, she continues, "I know you think I'm just some stupid kid, but I'm not. I'm a grown ass woman and if I want to take a walk outside, I'm going to take a walk outside. I'm not going far, I just really want to be outside for a few minutes." Calming down, she continues, "I know you don't like me much and you would rather be anywhere but protecting me, but I'm done apologizing for something I have no control over, now, do you have a coat I can borrow?" she finishes.

Clint is silent for a moment and she figures he isn't going to cooperate, so she turns to go back upstairs and grab her jacket.

"Go put on your warmest clothes, I'll get you a coat." he replies gruffly. "We need to check the horses, then you can go for your walk, and I don't think you are stupid, and I do like you."

Darcy grins happily, then reaches up and kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you Clint." She races upstairs to change clothes.

*****************************************

Clint grabs a couple of his coats from the hall closet, along with gloves, scarves and hats for them both. He hears Darcy come pounding down the stairs in excitement. Her eyes are glowing and she looks beautiful. His heart picks up speed as she skids to a halt in front of him, slightly off balance. She throws a hand up to steady herself and it lands on his bicep. A shock shoots up his arm at the contact. Did she feel it to? Her cheeks are flushed and she is laughing. Their eyes lock for a moment before Clint breaks contact. He clears his throat, "Let me help you." He holds out a coat for Darcy and she slips it on. The coat is much to large, but it will keep her warm. He takes one of the scarves and throws it around her neck, then pulls her closer using the ends. He winds the scarf around her neck, then tugs the hat onto her head. "This should keep you warm." he tells her, then hands her the gloves.

She grins at him, and hold out her arms, "How do I look?" she asks.

_Adorable_.

"Ridiculous." he replies.

"Fuck off Clint." she laughs. "I look awesome."

He agrees, but isn't about to tell her so. "C'mon you. Let's go see the horses."

The full moon is shining and it is bright as daylight. The pair head to the barn in the snow. Clint feels at peace for the first time since this whole disaster started. He really loves his farm and hates depending on others to take care of it while he is away. His distant neighbors think he is active military and take care of his animals while he is away. He pays them fairly well and they do a great job of taking care of his stock. He hopes he lives long enough to eventually retire here.

They reach the barn and Darcy strips out of her outerwear. She darts over to Gingers stall and takes in the sight before her. Ginger and her foal are peaceful and warm, laying on the ground. Ginger turns and looks at Darcy nickering softly. Clint hears her talking softly to the mare, but can't make out what she is saying. He focuses on getting the horses fed and watered. Darcy runs over to help, and they get the chores done in record time. Clint enjoys her company and admires how hard she works.

"What are you naming the baby?" she asks as they put their coats on again.

"I'm not sure. I like to get to know the animal before naming it." he replies.

Darcy nods, "Will you tell me what you name her? If I'm not here when you decide?" she asks softly.

"I will." he replies.

"Unless I'm dead of course." she laughs.

Clint stops and turns sharply to face Darcy. "Don't joke about this Darcy." he says sharply. "The threat against you is very real or you wouldn't be here now." He continues, "You should be back at the tower assisting Jane, warm and safe."

"I'm safe here." Darcy retorts.

"Darce," Clint begins, but Darcy has already left the barn.

Clint looks around the barn again, ensuring everything is done and the animals are warm. Satisfied, he follows her out the barn door. He turns and locks the barn door, then scans the landscape for Darcy who is nowhere to be found.

"Darcy?" he calls.

Nothing.

He walks a few feet from the barn and scans his surroundings again.

"Darcy? Where are you?" he calls again. He hears a soft laugh coming from his left, then, THUNK. A cold wet ball of snow hits his side. "The hell?" he sputters, just before the second snowball finds it's mark. Swinging around, he spots Darcy forming another snowball and laughing. His eyes narrow as he bends down and gathers a handful of snow. "You have no idea what you have just started Darcy-girl." he smirks.

She flings her snowball, but misses, then turns and races away from him, cackling madly.

Clint throws his snowball with deadly accuracy, hitting her square in the back. She shrieks and darts behind a tree. Clint gathers more snow and goes into stealth mode The only sounds outside are their breathing and leaves rustling in the occasional breeze He silently approaches the tree where Darcy is hiding and raises his arm, ready to throw. He is almost there when she jumps out and throws a snowball with a delighted laugh, then takes off running again. The snowball hits him in the chest and Clint fires the snowball in his hand, hitting Darcy in the back again. She screams, then jumps behind another tree, peeking out as Clint gathers another handful of snow. She laughs joyfully, then takes off running again. Clint is much faster than she is and is soon just behind her. Darcy stops suddenly, then turns and tries to run past him, back towards the house. Clint lunges for her as she passes and they crash to the snow covered ground. Darcy is on her back, laughing while Clint is half on top of her.

He looks at her for a moment and wants to kiss her. Damn, he really wants to kiss her, but before the thought can go from his brain to his lips, Darcy grabs two handfuls of snow and smashes them into his face. His grip loosens and she squirms away from him. Leaping to her feet, she runs towards the house. Clint jumps up and takes off after her. He slows down enough to gather a handful of snow which he packs into a tight snowball, then with careful aim, he lets if fly at Darcy, who choses that moment to look over her shoulder. The snowball hits her square in the face and she falls to the ground.

Clint is hovering over her in seconds. "Shit Darcy," he wipes the snow from her face, "are you ok?"

Darcy is laughing, "I'm fine. Nice shot."

Clint goes weak with relief, then collapses next to her in the snow. He starts to laugh with her. He is weak with laughter and feels lighter than he has in a long time.

*****************************************

Darcy loves a good snowball fight, and a snowball fight with Clint is as epic as she had hoped. She knows she can't win against him, he's freaking Hawkeye after all, but she gets some good shots in.

She also knows he is going to kiss her, but it is way to "rom com" for her to let it happen. That and she can't resist shoving the snow in his face. It is perfect. Getting hit in the face with a snowball is less fun, but there's no permanent damage.

Laying in the snow with him and laughing is somehow cathartic for both of them. The moon is so bright and the snow is so beautiful that Darcy almost cries. They both lay there looking at the moon until the cold finally seeps into their coats. Clint is the first to rise and holds out a hand to help her up. He offers his arm and they walk back to the house together. Darcy slips once, but Clint catches her before she lands on her backside.

**_God, he is so strong.  
_ **

"I'll make some coffee." Darcy offers, taking off her gloves, "You go warm up by the fire."

"Sounds great." Clint replies, "Let me take your coat." He removes his outerwear, then unwinds the scarf from around her neck, then takes the hat from her head.

"Ugh, frizz." Darcy tries to smooth her hair, but Clint stops her.

"Your hair is beautiful." he tells her, replacing her hands with his as he smooths her hair.

Darcy blushes, "Stop it, you dork." She pulls away slightly and unbuttons her coat. He slides it from her shoulders, then walks out of the kitchen. Darcy stares after him for a moment, then starts the coffee. She grabs the bread and throws it in the oven, then grabs some ground beef and starts to brown it while the coffee brews. Adding seasonings , she puts the meat on low, then adds some canned tomatoes and tomato sauce. She sets a large pot of water on the stove next to the meat and turns the heat on high. The coffee is done so she pours two cups, adds sugar and cream to hers, nothing to his, then takes them both to the living room. Clint is sitting on the couch staring into the fire. She hands him the coffee and sits on the floor next to his feet.

"Thanks Darce." he accepts the coffee gratefully, taking a long sip.

"You're welcome Clint." she responds.

"Why do you do that?" he asks.

"Do what?" she looks at him questioningly.

"Sometimes you call me Clint, sometimes you call me Barton." he replies.

"Depends on how mad I am at you." Darcy laughs.

"I hate when you are mad at me." he says earnestly.

"Then quit giving me reasons to be mad." Darcy replies simply, sipping her coffee.

"Darcy," Clint begins, but as usual, Darcy cuts him off.

"No deep discussions tonight." she interrupts, "I want to go to bed in a good mood tonight."

Clint smirks and looks down at his hands, not saying what he's thinking.

Darcy realizes what she said and blushes furiously.

"Shut up Clint."

********************************************


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy's eyes fly open. She doesn't know what woke her up, so she lies perfectly still, barely breathing. It's night, but the moon shining through her window is bright. It doesn't look like there is anyone in her room, but Darcy doesn't move. The rest of the house is quiet so she decides to try and go back to sleep.

Just as she closes her eyes, she hears a yell from outside her room. She can hear someone thrashing around so she slips out of bed into the frigid night air. Glancing around her room, she grabs a big flashlight that will make a good weapon, then tiptoes to her door. She opens the door as quietly as she can and slips into the hallway. The noise is coming from Clint's room. She can hear something, but isn't sure what it is.

"Clint?" she calls quietly, "You ok?"

There is no answer.

Darcy slowly turns the knob, then opens the door. Clint is thrashing in bed, obviously in the grips of a nightmare. Darcy sighs in relief, then puts the flashlight on the floor walking over to his bed. Kneeling down next to him, Darcy takes his hand. "Clint?" she asks.

Quick as a flash, Clint has her pinned on the cold floor, hands wrapped around her throat, legs straddling her waist. Darcy sees stars as the back of her head connects with the wooden floor.

"SHIT! That hurt Barton." Darcy exclaims.

Clint stops and he looks down at her in confusion, "Darcy?" his grip loosens. He looks around the room, then rolls off of her. "Fuck, did I hurt you?"

"I'm ok, the floor stopped my head." she jokes, then starts to sit up. Her head swims and she lays back down. "Woah, I think I'll just lay here until the ride comes to a full and complete stop."

"Dammit." Clint kneels over here, "Tell me your name." he demands.

"You know my name." Darcy replies.

"Be serious, I need you to tell me your name." he repeats.

"Fine, Darcy Lewis." she groans.

"What year is it?" he asks.

"2015." she replies.

Clint grabs the flashlight Darcy placed nearby, "I'm just going to check your eyes." He shines the light in her eyes.

Darcy flinches, "Fuck, that hurts."

"Hold still and let me look." Clint admonishes. He seems satisfied with what he sees and puts the flashlight down. He gently lifts Darcy's head and runs his fingers over the back of her head. "Everything feels good. I'm going to help you up slowly."

Grasping Darcy's hand, Clint helps Darcy to her feet. She sways momentarily and he wraps his arm around her waist.

"I'm fine." Darcy insists, but Clint steers her to his bed and makes her sit.

"I'm sure you are, I think you hit your head pretty hard." Clint says. He leans over her and switches on his bedside lamp. The soft glow fills the room and Darcy sees that Clint is wearing sweatpants. Only sweatpants. Gloriously low slung sweatpants.

"I didn't hit it, you pushed me down and the floor hit it" Darcy pouts.

"I did, and I'm sorry." Clint apologizes, looking abashed. "I think I was having a nightmare."

Darcy takes his hand in hers, "I'm playing Clint. It's fine, really. No harm, No foul." she winks.

"It seems that my farm is more dangerous to you than the tower is." Clint smiles ruefully.

"Clint, this was an accident, my getting stuck outside in the snow was an accident." Darcy squeezes his hand. "Now, tell me about your nightmare."

"What are you?" Clint asks, "My therapist? SHIELD already gave me one after Loki, I'm good."

"Then what was your nightmare about?" Darcy asks again.

"Let it go Darcy." Clint pulls his hand away from her, but she grabs it again.

"Have you met me?" Darcy laughs, "Now, tell me about your nightmare. It will help."

He runs his free hand through his already unkempt hair and sighs. "You have enough on your plate without my baggage."

Darcy sighs, then slips to her knees on the floor directly in front of Clint. She takes both hands in hers and looks up at him. "Clint Barton, stop. I consider you my friend and friends help each other. Tell me about your fucking nightmare or I will taze you in the balls."

Clint looks at Darcy, then shakes his head, "You are nuts."

"Nuts and freezing, this floor is cold. Now spill." she laughs.

"Get off the floor and back up here. I'll tell you."

**************************************************

How in the world is Clint going to tell Darcy that his nightmare involved her death? That she was murdered right in front of him and he was powerless to stop it. When he saw her die, he felt rage, he felt fear, he felt...

Something he refuses to name.

He also refuses to think about what Darcy is wearing. How is she warm at all just wearing a tiny tank top and those equally tiny shorts? Her breasts are barely covered and her nipples are rock hard, not that she seems to notice.

She is looking at him expectantly as she rises from the floor and back onto the bed. He reaches around her and grabs a blanket which he throws over her shoulders. He needs to get control of his thoughts before he finds himself on top of her, buried inside of her.

"Thank you Clint." she grins.

"Can't have you freeze." he replies. "Why didn't you pack warmer clothes?"

"I didn't have much time to pack." Darcy shrugs, "Cap told me to grab some clothes and be ready to fly immediately. Unfortunately, laundry day was still a few days away. I'm lucky I had anything clean at all." she laughs. "Now quit trying to distract me and tell me about your dream."

Clint sighs, "Ok, I'm not going to go into detail, but in my dream someone I care about was murdered in front of me and I couldn't stop it."

"Oh, Clint." Darcy lays her head on Clint's shoulder, "That's awful. Is that why you tried to strangle me?" She asks softly.

"I think my mind saw you as the one who killed her." Clint replies, "I'm glad I didn't hurt you worse." He wraps his arm around Darcy and hugs her close. He feels her snuggle in closer and feels comfort for the first time in a while.

The more he gets to know her, the more lost he is.

"Are you going to be ok?" she asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a dream." Clint assures her.

"A fucked up dream." Darcy retorts. "What time is it anyway?"

"About 3am." he answers, "I need to get up about 6am to check the stock."

"Will you be able to sleep?" she asks.

"I don't know." he answers truthfully.

"Want me to stay?" she offers.

Clint looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

Darcy rolls her eyes, "I didn't say have sex, I mean sleep. Sometimes it helps to have someone there."

**_Bad idea Barton._ **

"Sure, couldn't hurt I guess." he agrees.

"Couldn't hurt huh? You sure know how to flatter a girl." Darcy laughs, then a huge yawn splits her face. "Looks like I'm about to go down for the count." She stands up. "Which side do you want?"

"The outside." he responds without thought.

"Ok." she puts her blanket on the bed and pulls the covers back. She slips into his bed and immediately drops her head on a pillow. "C'mon, I'm tired." she pats the bed next to her.

**_Bad idea Barton._ **

Clint sighs and then joins her in the bed. Darcy immediately snuggles up to him, pulling his arm over her waist. Clint is overwhelmed by her femaleness. Her soft vanilla/floral scent, her soft curves, her warmth.

"G'night Clint." Darcy says softly, squeezing his hand.

"Night Darce." Clint squeezes her waist.

**********************************************

The bed smells like Clint. The musky, spicy scent of him is intoxicating. As soon as he lays down, Darcy scoots over to him and makes him the big spoon. He doesn't resist and she smiles to herself. She tells him goodnight and is soon fast asleep and dreaming. It's a good dream too. A really good x-rated dream.

*********************************************

Clint wakes up a few hours later to hear Darcy moan. He is worried for a moment that she is having a nightmare until she moans again and grinds her backside against him. His body instantly reacts. His normal morning wood is immediately morning steel. Darcy moans again and then whispers "Clint, please." Clint stills instantly. His arm is still around her and her hand is in his. He can't move away without waking her up, but if he stays pressed up against her much longer, he is going to embarrass himself in his sweatpants.

Shit.


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy moans as Clint licks a trail from her ear down her neck, his hot breath leaving gooseflesh in it's wake. She knew it would be good with Clint, but she had no idea just how good. She is convinced that her body is about combust. Grinding her hips against him, she feels how hard he is. Running her hands down his strong arms, she feels him trembling. 

"Clint, please." she whispers as she grasps his naked hips and pulls him closer, his erection pressing into her.

"Darcy. Wake up." he moans in her ear.

"Clint, PLEASE." she whispers again.

"Wake up now, Darcy." he tells her. 

The fuck?

The scene fades as Darcy's eye fly open. Instead of Clint hovering above her, naked, she sees a wall. She feels his arm over her waist and his erection pressing into her backside. 

Wait, what? His what?

Darcy pretends to stretch and pulls away, rolling over to face him. 

"Good Morning." Clint smiles at her.

"Morning." Darcy grins back. "Feeling any better this morning?"

"Yeah, I'm good." he tells her. "I slept great actually. Sorry about...um...you know." 

"It's ok, involuntary morning wood." Darcy shrugs and look away, "I know it's not personal." she finishes softly.

********************************************** 

Not personal? He has never wanted anyone more than he wants her right now. He knows his resolve to keep her at a distance is slipping. 

"Darcy" he begins, but she just smiles sadly and sits up, wrapping the blanket tightly around her. 

"Clint, It's ok. I understand." she says, "Let me up please."

"Darce." he sits up next to her, "We should talk about this."

"Talk about what?" Darcy asks, "There is nothing to talk about. I really need to get up." she finishes quietly. She scoots around Clint and gets off the bed. "I'll bring the blanket back in a second." She walks into the bathroom and shuts the door. 

Clint groans and drops his head into his hands. How did this get so fucked up? He was doing fine until he was forced to hole up in his house with Darcy. He can't keep his distance from her here and he doesn't want to anymore. God, he just wants to be with her.

Darcy comes back into the freezing room, but she unwraps the blanket from her body anyway and hands it to him. She is still wearing her clothes from last night and her body's reaction to the cold is glaringly obvious. His reaction to her should also be glaringly obvious, but covered by the blanket.

"Darcy, can we talk about this?" Clint asks.

She sighs, "Talk about what, Clint?" Darcy replies, "Talk about this morning and your body's involuntary reaction?" She laughs, "Don't worry about it." She avoids his gaze and turns to walk away.

"Darcy, wait." Clint stands and walks over to her. He can't just let her walk away. He can't. "Please." He gently touches her arm, "I want...I can't leave it like this." 

"Like what Barton?" Darcy looks sharply at him. "I don't need your pity." 

"Pity? What the hell are you talking about?" Clint asks.

"Don't make me say it." Darcy's eyes shine with a combination of anger and tears. 

"Darcy, I can't read your mind. Tell me what's wrong." he grabs her arm and pulls her closer. "Tell me."

"No." Darcy looks away.

"YES." he snaps. "Tell me what's wrong."

"FINE." Darcy explodes, "You want want to know what's wrong? I like you, ok? I've had a thing for you for months. You are all I can think about and I know damn well I'm not good enough for you. I'm not anything special, I'm just Darcy Lewis, lab monkey, who fell for a superhero. Pathetic, I know."

***********************************************

SHIT, I said that out loud. Must replace internal filter.

"I'm...ah, I'm going to change clothes." Darcy tries to turn away, but Clint doesn't let go of her arm. "Barton. let go."

"Don't call me Barton." he looks at Darcy.

"What?" Darcy gapes at him, "That's what you took from what I just said?"

"Call me Clint." he says, voice low. 

"Why?" she snaps.

"You only call me Barton when you're mad at me." he pulls her closer, "I don't like when you are mad at me."

"Fine," she sighs, "Clint. Now can I go change and possibly drown myself before I humiliate myself even more?" 

"We still need to talk Darcy." he whispers, "There are things that need to be said. Things I need to say." Clint whispers. 

"Then say them." she challenges him. 

"Darcy, I've been trying to keep you at a distance. I haven't been fair to you." he begins. 

"If this is the part where you confess your affection for me, you can save it." Darcy tells him bitterly, "Like I said, I don't want your pity."

"I've really screwed this up, haven't I?" Clint lets go of her arm, and steps back. "Darcy, I do like you."

"Oh Bullshit," Darcy laughs up at him, "You like me about as much as the plague. I know can't wait to ship me back to the tower, get me out of your hair." 

"CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR TWO SECONDS AND LET ME FINISH?" he shouts at her.

"WHY? SO I CAN BE EVEN MORE HUMILIATED? SO YOU CAN PROVE TO ME JUST HOW MUCH YOU DON'T WANT ME?" Darcy shouts back, eyes flashing. 

"YOU THINK I DONT WANT YOU? I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU. ALL I WANTED TO DO THIS MORNING WAS FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU." Clint yells. 

"You had morning wood, an involuntary body response that has nothing to do with me." Darcy protests. "I don't want a pity fuck."

*************************************************

"Pity fuck? Dammit Darcy, pity would be the last thing on my mind if I was fucking you." Clint's eyes darken, "You scare the shit out of me." he knows it's he can't turn back now, "I've watched you ever since I first saw you in Puente Antiguo. You were giving Coulson hell about your iPod and I never saw anything so beautiful. You are always happy, laughing and dancing. You are gorgeous, brave, and kind and I would destroy that. You think you aren't special? I don't know anyone else like you. Why do you think this is so fucking hard?" He runs a hand through his already scruffy hair, causing it to stick up.

"Clint." Darcy protests, "Stop. You don't have to do this."

"Darcy, please." Clint says firmly, "I need to tell you." 

Darcy just looks at him, she doesn't say a word as she walks to the bed and sits down, pulling a blanket over her. 

This is it, now or never. 

Clint walks to where she sits and settles on his knees in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her. "Darcy, I'm a murderer. I've taken peoples lives without a second thought. Even before Loki, I wasn't a good person." Clint looks up at Darcy, broken. "The reason I don't want you here is because I don't want to add you to my list. I don't want to ruin you. You bring so much good to the world and I only bring...whatever it is I bring. I liked to think I was an assassin for the right reason, but I know now that isn't true. I just did what I was told. A fucking mindless drone." 

Darcy places a hand on his cheek and he leans into the warmth for a moment, allowing himself the small comfort before he forces himself to pull away. "I've killed agents, co-workers. Dammit, I shot at Hill." he takes a shaky breath and continues, "I should have fought Loki's control harder. Selvig was able to fight. He put a stop in Loki's wormhole generator, so Tasha was able to shut it down." he pauses and takes another breath, "I see you here, in my home, working harder than you have to, helping me, showing me what I could have if I weren't such a mess, a murderer."

"Clint." Darcy whispers, "You are none of that."

"How can you say that?" Clint asks. "You've seen what I've done. I'm as guilty as Loki." 

"Guess what Cowboy, I talked to both Thor and Dr. Selvig." Darcy smiles gently at him, "Anything you did while under Loki's control is on him, not you, and whatever you did in the past is just that. I'm not worried about your past. Everyone has done things they are ashamed of. Whatever you did, it's over." she cups his face and force him to look at her. "On, that note, do you really think for one second that you didn't miss Agent Hill on purpose? You are fucking Hawkeye. You don't miss anything or anyone."

"You don't understand, Darce. I'm terrified of dragging you into my world. What it will do to you." Clint looks at her imploringly.

"Clint, do you think I'm stupid?" Darcy asks, "In all the time you've known me, do you think I've done something I didn't ultimately want to do?"

Clint laughs, "No, I can honestly say that you are one of the strongest people I know and you are not stupid."

"Then quit being such a martyr, It doesn't look good on you." Darcy looks Clint in the eyes, "To quote my favorite Dolly Parton movie line, 'Get down off the cross honey, somebody needs the wood!'"

"Wait, what?" Clint looks confused.

"You haven't seen Straight Talk?" Darcy asks.

"I've been busy," Clint replies, still confused.

"Oh, when we get back to the tower, you are coming over and we are watching it. You'll love it. Dolly Parton is hilarious." Darcy grins, "Now back to the the issue at hand, I am done talking about this. You are not a bad person, trust me, I would tell you." 

"Darcy, I don't want to hurt you."

"Are you kidding me?" Darcy looks at him incredulously, "You don't want to hurt me? What the hell do you think you have been doing since we left the tower?" Darcy laughs, "I can't believe I still want you after the way you've acted."

Clint has no idea what to say. She still wants him? "How do you still want this?" he asks her, "Why?"

****************************************************

Darcy just can't help what happens next. She is done talking. 

Sliding off the bed and straddling Clint, she puts her hands on his face and holds him still. She feels his hands grasp her hips as she looks into his beautiful eyes. Her eyes drop to his lips and she leans into him, drawing him to her. Her heart is about to pound out of her chest, but she couldn't stop this even if she wanted to. 

She definitely does not want to stop. 

****************************************************

His arms are full of gorgeous Darcy Lewis. She is soft and oh so warm. She smells like vanilla and lavender. He gets a whiff of her minty toothpaste as she leans into him. When her eyes drop to his lips, he slides his hands up her back, under her top. Her skin is so smooth. His hands are so callused, he is almost afraid that he will hurt her. He feels Darcy's breath hitch just before their lips touch. Her small hands move from his face to the back of his head, pulling him closer. 

Why didn't he want this to happen again?


	7. Chapter 7

Their breath mingles for a moment before their lips met. 

Oh.

Oooohhhhhh. 

Clint pulls her closer, wanting to consume her. She is soft and warm in his lap, pliant under his hands. He feels Darcy's hands tighten in his hair, hears her moan softly. He deepens the kiss and her response is exhilarating. HIs senses are filled with her soft scent. He runs his hands up her back, reveling in her silken skin. Her lips part under his and he can finally taste her. She is intoxicating. 

They separate briefly, gasping for air, but surge together again. Clint is desperate for more. He feels Darcy's hands glide down his neck to his shoulders as she grinds into his lap. His body immediately responds to her and he groans. His hands drop to the hem of her shirt and he tugs it upward. Darcy pulls back and lifts her arms, smiling. He slowly removes her shirt, revealing her soft smooth skin. 

"Darce, you are so beautiful." Clint breathes. 

Darcy blushes and moves her arms to cover herself, "Clint..."

"Don't." Clint grabs her wrists, "Don't hide from me. Please."

She looks into Clint's eyes, searching for something and apparently finding it. She leans into him and whispers, "Take me to bed Clint Barton."

"Yes Ma'am."

********************************************************

Beautiful?

Stacked? Yes.

Cute? Sure.

Beautiful? Never. 

She has a moment of doubt. Was he lying to her? Laughing at her? Looking into his eyes, she looks for any sign of deceit, but all she sees is desire. His pupils are blown wide and she can feel his erection pressing into her. 

"Take me to bed Clint Barton." she tells him.

"Yes Ma'am." he replies. 

Darcy moves from his lap and stands on shaking legs, tugging Clint's hand. He stands and pulls her closer, cups her face and slants his lips across hers. Darcy winds her arms around his neck and holds on. Clint slides his hands down her waist and beneath her shorts, cupping her bare bottom, pulling her hips into his. Her bare breasts are pressing into his chest. Clint guides her back until the back of her knees hit the bed. Darcy sits on the bed, grasping the waistband of his sleep pants. She leans forward and kisses his abdomen, his muscles taut. Lowering his pants, she frees his erection, hard as granite. She grasps his length and hears his sharp inhalation. 

"Darce." he groans, "You don't have to...ahhh."

She licks the tip, tasting the bead of moisture that has formed. Salty and bitter, she smiles, then swirls her tongue around the head. She feels powerful, listening to Clint curse under his breath. She takes the head in her mouth and sucks gently. He is average length, but thick and beautiful. 

"Oh shit Darcy," he gasps, "You better stop or this will be over before it even starts."

Darcy looks up at Clint and pouts, "Well, you better get on this bed and get in me." 

Clint grins and quickly removes his pants from around his ankles while Darcy scoots to the middle and settles back on the pillows. He clambers onto the bed with a wolfish smile. Capturing her lips again, he settles in next to her and Darcy forgets everything but the feeling of his lips on hers, his hands caressing her body, pulling her closer. She rolls onto her back, pulling him over her relishing the weight of his body on hers.

*************************************************

He settles between Darcy's thighs, her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Looking into her eyes, he kisses her again, moaning at her enthusiastic response. She rolls her hips in response, seeking him. "Darce," he gasps, "Do we need protection?"

"I'm clean and on the pill." she replies, "It's been a long time since I've been with anyone." she flushes.

"Oh, Thank God," Clint responds, "I swear I'm clean. I haven't been with anyone for a while either. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Darcy reaches up to cup his cheek, "I trust you with everything."

Clint looks at her in amazement. "You are amazing." 

"Shut up and get to work." She smiles at him. 

"Ma'am, yes ma'am." he grins back. Leaning down, he captures her lips again and drinks her in. Clint kisses his way down her neck to her breasts. Her nipples pebble under his gaze. He draws the tip of one breast into his mouth, while gently cupping the other. She gasps and arches her back, trying to get closer to him. 

"Clint, please." she squirms, "I need you, I want you." 

He drops a hand down between her thighs and gently spreads her, testing her readiness. He can feel the moisture and knows she is ready for him. He moves back up her body and positions himself. Darcy winds her legs around his hips and rolls her hips again, trying to draw him in. Clint presses his forehead to hers and gently pushes the head of his erection into her heat. 

"Shit Darce," he whispers into her mouth, "you feel fucking amazing." He slowly works himself back and forth, spreading the moisture gently, not wanting to hurt her by being too forceful. 

Darcy whines and grabs his ass, trying to pull him in fully. "Don't tease me Clint, please." 

"I don't want to hurt you." he looks into her eyes, "I want to be able to do this as often as possible." 

"Already thinking of next time?" Darcy teases, "I must be doing something very wrong."

Clint growls and thrusts into her a little more forcefully, eliciting a gasp from the beautiful woman beneath him. He stills, afraid that he hurt her.

"Yes!" she moans, "Do that again. Harder. You aren't going to hurt me Clint."

"Darce." he hesitates.

******************************

Darcy huffs and finding a strength borne of passion, rolls Clint over onto his back. "Don't you dare stop now." she kisses him forcefully, straddling him. She sinks onto him, moaning. "Oh that's better." Adjusting to his girth, she sits up, rocking back and forth gently, then with more force until he is fully seated within her. She closes her eyes, reveling in the feeling of him, inside of her, stretching her. 

Clint slides his hands up her thighs to her hips and grips her tightly, he pushes his hips up into her. The angle is perfect and his pelvic bone pushes against her clit. Electricity races up her body and she throws her head back. Clint reaches up to caress her breasts as she lifts herself then drops back down again. 

"Oh God." she moans as she feels him thrust up into her again and again. 

"You can call me Clint." he responds, sliding his hands down to grasp her hips again. 

"Shut up and fuck me, Hawkass." Darcy laughs. 

Darcy impales herself over and over as she feels her orgasm building, increasing the speed of her movement, gasping with pleasure. She looks down at Clint, his back arched and feet braced against the mattress as he thrusts up into her, the look on his face is enough to push her over the edge into bliss. Her body jerks above her lovers as she cried out in pleasure, head thrown back. He continues to thrust up into her as she shatters above him. She feels his thrusts becoming erratic, then his grip on her hips tightens as he grunts his own release. 

Coming back into herself, she falls forward onto his sweat drenched chest, gasping for air.

**********************************

Watching Darcy come apart above his is more than he can take. He is desperately trying to hold back his own release as she cries out with hers. He doesn't ever want this to end, but feeling Darcy tighten around him and the look of ecstasy on her face drives him to find his own release and he comes in waves, harder than he ever has before. When she lands on top of him, he just holds her, reveling in the knowledge that he is the reason for her pleasure. Darcy lays on top of him, body twitching occasionally as the sweat cools on their satiated bodies. Without moving Darcy, he pulls the blanket over them both and they fall asleep, still joined and deeply satisfied.


End file.
